Poems for November 2017

  The following verses are selections from the poetry of James E. Cox (Jim).

To learn more about the author and his works, visit the sites under “Navigation.” 

 

 

This month I will present the poetry that dominates our music. It is the Ballad. Of the greater than fifteen hundred a twenty-five poems that I have written, over one hundred and seventy are ballads.

I will even present two variations on the theme.

Enjoy!

The Ballad

Lines 1 and 3 are unrhymed iambic tetrameter. Lines 2 and 4 are rhyming iambic trimester.

 

My Haunted House

I know my home is haunted,

though my wife says it’s not.

How else explain the many things

she says I just forgot.

 

The many times keys disappear

when just there in my hand.

Wallet, glasses, shirts and socks

seem ghostly contraband.

 

Ghosts never seem to keep them.

They wait till I give up,

then leave them some place obvious…

long after I blow up.

 

I often lose a thought,

and know it is their fault,

but they will never give them back,

and searching is for naught.

 

Now, as I age seems more of them

conspire in my abode.

but they do not vex me as much…

perhaps they too are getting old.

 

Ballad (mod #1)

Lines 1 or 3 contain internal rhymes in iambic tetrameter. Lines 2 and 4 are rhyming iambic trimester.

 

 The Possessions

As fire draws near and spread its fear

 that all will end in flame,

I search my mind as now resigned

my treasures it would claim.

What can I leave with lesser grief

and what dare not be lost?

What not to save and later crave..

for so abhor the cost?

Treasures galore are held in store

in every home and heart.

Each souvenir is held quite dear

and painful to depart.

Will I despair my favored chair

if it should be consumed.

Most property I guarantee

is loved less than presumed

What then is much too dear to me

to let kismet destroy?

Most things I own are toys outgrown…

I need not...but enjoy.

No need persist in pondering,

all toys will break anon.

It’s love alone that you may own

‘till life itself is gone.

 

Ballad (mod #2)

Lines 1 and 3 are rhyming (should be unrhymed)  iambic tetrameter. Lines 2 and 4 are rhyming iambic trimester.

 

The critic

What will control the words now cast

in verses thought so fair?

What dictates if  amused…aghast...

a blaspheme or a prayer?

The essence of the one who reads

interpolates each word;

and if that soul has special needs

what’s quilled can oft be stirred.

Remember as the critics choose

if merit lies within,

they too are men who scar and bruise...

with bias...pain...chagrin

 

 

   

 My e-books All That Rhymes and Rubai Gems are now available on Kindle for only 99 cents. They will make an excellent present to a loved one.

 

Thanks for visiting my website.  Please come again next month for entirely new   poems and also visit my poetry blog http://jim-cox.blogspot.com often.